Setting the Curve
by MomentarySetback
Summary: Post-ep for 7x13 And They're Offed. What if Calleigh hadn't been off duty with the horse trainer when Eric came to give her the truffles? What if she'd been there for him to finally tell her how he felt right then and there?


_Author's Note: Please send help, I can't stop writing. 😂 This is a completely pointless fluffy story idea that came to me while rewatching season 7. What if Calleigh hadn't been off duty with the horse trainer when Eric came to give her the truffles? What if she'd been there for him to finally tell her how he felt right then and there?_

* * *

Eric knew she'd be here, yet that didn't stop a little smile from creeping across his lips at the sight of her: blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder as she leaned forward, jotting notes down in an open case file in between glancing into a microscope.

As he swung the door open, she looked up at him, smiling as she took in the bag strapped over his shoulder and the jacket covering his broad frame. "Hey, you headed out?"

"Yeah." He glanced around, double-checking that they were as alone as he hoped they were and relaxing when he realized they were. "You got a minute?"

"Sure," she said as she turned the bullet over beneath the microscope. She met his eyes briefly before she continued writing, figuring he needed to talk schedules or run a lead by her. But then she caught sight of him setting that delicate, familiar box of her favorite truffles right on her desk and her heart started pounding in her chest. It was both surprisingly and completely welcome despite throwing her off guard for a moment.

She met his eyes, her pen stilling on the paper as she took in the sight of him here, finally, ready to be direct and put words to what they'd been feeling for probably the better part of two years.

"You asked me what I want," he began, finally finding his courage. He'd been trying for weeks, and he'd hoped she'd be out at Brennan's last night so he could talk to her after a little liquid courage had worked its way through his veins. But she hadn't come out, and he'd been disappointed. The disappointment had just further fueled his need to tell her – and soon so they could stop wasting precious time they'd already lost when apparently he just simply needed to tell her how he felt.

"I want you," he breathed out, watching her eyes soften, her posture relax, the corners of her lips curve upward. "I know it's crazy 'cause it's us…" He chuckled a little at the insanity of it...that this had just _happened_ after years and years together – and that it hadn't happened sooner. "And I know it's like starting a thousand dates in…but I want that." There was a little awe in his voice, like he couldn't quite believe it himself still. Like he couldn't believe he was standing across from her actually saying the words and that she was standing there, holding his gaze and tilting her head with the sweetest smile spreading across her lips. "I want you," he said again. "I want _us_."

"Okay," she said softly, staring back at him as she waited for his reaction.

"Okay?" He smirked, a little taken aback by her simple response.

"Yeah." She grinned, setting the pen down and closing up the case file she'd been taking notes in. And then she reached for the box, eyes bright with anticipation as she ran her fingers over the perfectly coiled ribbons. "I want that, too. You wanna take me home?"

Well. This was spiraling and he couldn't be more fine with it. "I-" He stopped short, resting his hands on the table to find his bearings and nodding as a playful smile graced his features. He'd come here to convince her, hopefully ask her out, and she'd completely turned the tables on him. "Yes."

"Let me pack up."

/~/

"I didn't realize you were so into horses," Eric said as he closed the lid on her grill, leaving their chicken to cook. Oddly, this wasn't the first time they'd had dinner here alone, but it was the first time he'd cooked for her. After her kidnapping, they'd brought takeout home and talked until she'd been too tired to let what happened keep her from sleeping. He'd played sentry in her guest room.

This was proving to be much different, with both of them moving about her kitchen earlier (they did make a good team) and exchanging loaded glances and smiles every so often.

"The family next to us had them when I was growing up," she explained as she pulled the cork from a bottle of wine. "We ended up kinda sharing the stable. Their daughter and I rode together almost every day."

"What else don't I know about you after eight years?"

"Probably a lot," she teased, her lips curving into a pleased smile as she poured two generous glasses. "He asked me out, you know."

"Who?" He didn't even need to know the answer to that before his brows furrowed with jealousy.

She tilted her head and smiled as she passed him a glass. "Terrence. The horse trainer."

"Was that his name?" Eric feigned confusion and she laughed a little, letting their glasses clink before she took a sip. He did the same and then let his eyes draw over her appreciatively. She was now clothed in casual jeans and a white v-neck that hugged her curves. The bit of the setting sun still hanging in the sky set her eyes aglow, and he hadn't been able to take his eyes off them since they'd moved outside. "I'm not surprised."

She smiled, not at all unfamiliar with the undercurrent of flirtation that had permeated their relationship. What was new was his ability to do something about it, and yet he hadn't. Maybe since he'd put his feelings on the line first – both by letting her read his file and in the lab today – she owed him the first move.

"Not interested?" he asked, and it took her a moment herself to remember they were talking about Terrence.

"Not really." She hopped up to sit on the counter-high ledge of the retaining wall that separated her patio from the grassy hill behind them. "I was holding out for this other guy…"

"Oh yeah?" That characteristic smirk graced his features as he stepped toward her, setting his glass next to hers on the grill's side table. "He must be pretty special."

"He is," she agreed, grinning when he was close enough to touch – and she did, gently tugging at his nice button-up until he was between her legs. She smiled as her eyes danced with his, confidently running her hands up his chest until she could jump the fabric and let her hands cup the warm skin of his neck.

His hands settled on her thighs and she drew him to her, leaning in to slowly press her lips to his. He was softer and slower than she thought he'd be given his track record, and she found herself smiling against him as she pressed and slid her lips against his. His palms lightly pressed into her thighs for a moment before gliding up to her hips and finally settling on her waist. There, he could feel the warmth of her skin radiating through the thin v-neck and between that and the way her lips were sliding against his, he was completely intoxicated by her. He'd been dreaming of this for years, and it all paled in comparison to the way her mouth moved against his, the way she tasted, the equally comforting and maddening glide of her fingers over the back of his neck.

She slowed her kisses just then, pressing her lips softly to his once more before she pulled back to rest her forehead against his. He couldn't take his eyes off hers, and just when the silence became too heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions between them, she smirked and glanced at the grill.

"You know, I know you're the grill expert here," she began sarcastically, "but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to flip those."

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, returning to the grill to find she'd thought of it just in time. As he flipped their dinner, she swore she saw just the slightest shade of pink coloring his cheeks. "You're distracting me."

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again," she fake-promised with enough southern lilt to bring another smile to his lips.

"Please do," he said as he walked back towards her, but not before setting a timer on his phone to ensure he didn't completely burn their food – because there was a very high probability he'd be distracted by her again. He picked up her wine glass from the grill, where it was out of reach for her, and returned it to her hands on his way.

It was like he'd read her mind and she smiled, glancing down at the glass in her hands before she took a sip. She could get used to this.

"Although technically I'm breaking my biggest dating rule right now," he continued, his eyes dancing over her and realizing it was no wonder why. Calleigh could sail right past go and collect $200, as far as he was concerned.

"Oh really?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah." He chuckled, resting his hand over the sensitive spot of her thigh just above her knee. "I just have this rule that I don't go home with someone until I have certain questions answered."

"You have a quiz?" She laughed, rolling her eyes.

"I mean not really, but I guess you could call it that." He'd taken to running his fingers along the back of her knee and she smiled, wondering if he knew it was driving her absolutely crazy. "I started making myself adhere to it after my less than stellar track record."

"You're being too hard on yourself," she said softly, tilting her head in that way she did when she was being sweet with him. "It's been a while since you had a crazy one and besides, everyone has a crazy dating phase."

"Everyone?" he asked curiously, raising his brows as he leaned towards her questioningly.

"Okay, not me, but most people, and I've had my share of less than stellar decisions," she offered, sympathizing with him. And then she took a long drag of wine and sat up straighter as though readying herself. "What are your questions?"

"Calleigh…" he warned, his eyes softening on her. "You don't have to answer them right now. I'm sure it'll come up in normal conversation at some point."

"Come on, what if I made you break all your rules and then I don't pass?" she pressed on, and he laughed at how seriously she was taking this. "That would be a terrible first date." He grinned at that word, unable to take his eyes off the way her eyes were imploring his. All those times she'd sweet-talked her way into some evidence or exclusionary samples suddenly made sense, not that he'd ever doubted her...but having it directed at him with the undercurrent of the way they apparently felt about each other made her pretty diabolical to him right now, and that was a little dangerous.

"Come on," she said again, straightening up. "I'm feelin' good."

"Okay, okay," he relented, but she was all too aware of him grabbing for the wine bottle to pour another glass before they went down this road. He tilted it toward her in an offer and she extended her nearly empty glass, letting him top it off. "Some background," he began. "When I kinda came to after a string of very reckless behavior, I came up with the first, kind of a formality but important. The other two are newer...I decided I wasn't messing around after I got shot, which you know because you read my file…"

She smiled, her eyes locking with his understandingly – but the intensity there made her swallow hard. She wanted to get into this, they _needed_ to if they were going to dive right in this deep while coworkers and friends. They needed to be upfront and honest, and it was what she wanted from the beginning – but it was also a little terrifying. What would have been in her file if the roles had been reversed? And what would he do with that knowledge?

"One. Uhhh what do you do for birth control?" That was the necessary one, and she smiled a little at the awkwardness in his voice. They were both well into adulthood, and it was a very good, very important conversation to have. But that didn't stop the implications of that question from making her fight back both a grin and an onslaught of flashbacks to him shirtless after an evidence recovery dive.

"Two. What are your thoughts on marriage?" That one made her take another long drag of wine. "Three. Do you want kids?"

When she straightened up further and scooted a bit forward, he took her shifting to be a sign of unease and chuckled a little, moving closer. "Look, you don't have to answer them…" he began, but when he looked up to meet her eyes she was just smiling like she was about to lay down the winning hand in a poker game.

He'd been open and honest with her – maybe unintentionally, maybe for the sake of the case and finding his therapist's killer, maybe, just maybe, because he'd wanted to find out what would happen if she knew. Although it went against every protective and defensive bone in her body, she wanted to do the same for him in return.

"One," she began, surprising him. "I have an IUD, so that's locked down," she said with an amusing gesture of her hand. "Two: I think it's kind of a formality, especially after watching my parents' joke of a marriage and traumatizing divorce, but somehow I'm still kinda partial to it... " She held his gaze, on a roll now and committed to powering through before she thought of the consequences. "And three, yes," she finished simply, nodding slowly as she watched the realization settle over him.

He really couldn't do anything but stare back at her for a moment, his lips curving upward as it hit him that he was really in trouble this time. He shouldn't have been surprised, and yet he was a little – because this was Calleigh, who'd always been overly driven in her career and a little rough around the edges, who'd lost a good chunk of her childhood to an alcoholic father and negligent mother. And yet she'd still ended up here: a brilliant CSI and incredible ballistics expert, kind and caring and literally his steady ground for the past two years but also not afraid to put him in his place when he needed it. He'd started falling for that Calleigh, and now she was sitting in front of him all warm and open, all sunny smiles and bright green eyes, soft kisses and wandering hands, apparently wanting all the same things he wanted.

"So did I pass?" she asked, breaking him from his slight reverie and making him realize he hadn't said a word – not that he had to, really. Their eyes had been dancing in the moments of silence, speaking worlds where words failed them.

"No," he said, trying to be as serious as he could and failing miserably as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He brought himself closer, one hand brushing across her cheek as he tucked an errant strand of bright blonde hair behind her ear and then cupped her jaw. "I think you just set the curve," he assured before he leaned in and slowly captured her lips with his.

"Good," she breathed out as they parted moments later, pressing a little kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her fingers were toying with the hem of his shirt and soon they dipped under, his muscles contracting as she ran her fingers over the ridges, a prelude to what was to come. "'Cause I was kinda hoping you'd stay."


End file.
